Harry Potter: Ascending
by bs1hero
Summary: Join Harry and his friends in the first instalment of a re-imagining of the entire Potterverse, meet a different Harry, a Harry that didn't emerge from 11 years of pain at the Dursley's to take his place as the Boy Who Lived as well as the other. How will Harry react to his newfound fame? Find out, in Harry Potter: Ascending..
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"BOY!"

Harry Potter groaned, waking from his light slumber, recognising the hoarse bellowing of his title in the house. He soon realised his tardiness, and started hurriedly searching for something to wear, finding an oversized T shirt in the darkness, then he started looking for something to wear on his bottom half before the door to the cupboard under the stairs burst open with a bang that nearly took it off its hinges.

"I thought I had already shouted for you once." Harry's Uncle Vernon growled in a menacing tone, much too quietly for such a large man. "I thought you understood what was required of you? Or are you too stupid to understand, just like your father?"

Harry ignored the dig about his parent; they were far too common to get upset about. He instead apologised to his uncle, and found a pair of jeans far too short for him, but then again every one of his clothes were too big or small he reflected. He then followed his Uncle as he led him to the kitchen, where his Aunt Petunia and Cousin Dudley were sat around the table, waiting for him.

This was most unusual in the Dursley household, as they were perfectly accustomed to ignoring Harry completely, except to have him do something, berate him, or punish him. Harry shivered at that thought as he looked confusedly at the angry faces around the kitchen table, the two angry faces, as Dudley was more concerned with the boxing match playing on the large TV on the kitchen wall.

The tension in the room was palpable, until Uncle Vernon spoke. "For 11 years boy, you have been a drain on this household, a drain on resources, money and our time and attention." Vernon looked around for confirmation from his wife, who gave a nod. He went on, "Therefore, me and your aunt have decided that it is high time you found yourself some way of compensating us for all these things. We both agree, that 10 is more than high enough of an age to be going out and finding methods of money making."

Harry didn't dare glance at his 5 week older cousin, but instead politely protested, "Who would give me anything to do anything for them?" Uncle Vernon shrugged off the comment, "That's your problem isn't it? Time to show that 'quiet ingenuity' your idiot teachers' bang on about!" he jeered, before his face grew serious. "You will find something before your eleventh birthday, or there will be… problems in mine and your futures boy, do you understand?"

Harry knew better than to argue, and nodded. "Good." Said Uncle Vernon. Well get out of the house and get to it. I'm sick of the sight of you." Harry made to leave, but Vernon stopped him. "I don't have to tell you boy, but if this conversation gets anywhere apart from between us, you'll wish you'd been as lucky as your parents. Do we understand each other?"

"Yes Uncle Vernon", Harry replied with all the politeness he could muster while feeling so hopeless as he traipsed out of the front door. Harry kept walking, thinking about the conversation that had just taken place. If Harry didn't know any better, he'd think Uncle Vernon was joking. A 10 year old boy find a steady job? He might be young, but he was by no means naïve. He knew there was about as much chance of that happening as there was Dudley winning gold at the next Olympics.

Then his mind strayed, with a painful jolt, to the angry weals currently present on his backside from two days ago, when he had accidentally set the fire alarm off making toast. He felt Uncle Vernon's belt doubly hard that time, as his uncle put it, for "Disturbing the neighbours with your idiocy, and wasting good food you don't pay for." Harry realised that that little incident must've lit the fuse for today's conversation, and fell even further into despair.

Predictably, Harry's mind came full circle, to why he was in this situation in the first place with his Aunt and Uncle. Harry wondered what it would have been like to have grown up with parents; they would love him, wouldn't they? He thought as he let his legs carry him around Little Whinging. But Harry's parents were dead, dead in a house fire started by "that freakish idiot", as Vernon liked to describe Harry's father. Vernon had relished in enlightening the newly 8 year old Harry Potter how his father had drunkenly let a cigarette drop out of an ashtray while he was sleeping off his latest indiscretions, killing himself and Harry's mother in one swift swoop. The young Harry had burst into tears on hearing this, hoping for several years some unknown relation would pluck him from his hell, but to no avail. Harry would turn 11 in 6 days' time, and had more pressing matters on hand.

As he walked through Little Whinging, he saw neighbours glare suspiciously at him, there had always been something funny about "that Potter boy", they said. Rumours got round, some more true than others, of curiosities that always seemed to involve Harry. Little Whinging was not a place for curiosity, it was a place for bragging about your company car and making sure your lawn was greener than everyone else's. It was not a place for people's hair to spontaneously turn tartan, lawn sprinklers to explode and crop circles to appear on regularly mown lawns, as had happened in the past when Harry was around. The inhabitants of Little Whinging did not like Harry, and the feeling was mutual. How on earth was he going to make money in this place?

Harry was looking for an answer to that very question when his feet carried him to the small park off of Wisteria Walk, where he thought he might sit for a while to ponder his position. He slumped moodily into a swing, wincing when the lash marks on his backside burned from the hard surface. Ignoring the pain, he began to think. The only person in Little Whinging he was even remotely friendly with was Mrs Figg, who lived on this very same street, but he didn't much fancy having to look at hundreds of pictures of cats again, which is what had happened every other time the Dursleys had placed him in her care while they went off on holiday every year.

Lost in thought, Harry had failed to notice the group of boys walking onto the park. Too late, he noticed Dudley Dursley and his gang of merry idiots, big idiots who enjoyed hurting people. He watched as Dudley swaggered over to him. "Hey loser, haven't you got stuff to be doing?" Harry kept his eyes to the ground. "I'm working on it," he replied carefully. "Well working on it's gonna get a lot harder for you shrimp-boy!" he jibed, advancing menacingly with his gang on Harry. "I think it's time for a little bit of Harry Hunting, don't you boys? First one to bring him to me gets first shot!"

Harry ran. He'd tried standing his ground with Harry Hunting before and he ended with a broken nose, two busted lips and similar glasses. He wasn't fool enough to think blind bravery was a good idea. Luckily the prerequisite for joining Dudley's gang seemed to be that you were fat, out of shape and slow, which Harry thanked God for. He may have been a "shrimp-boy", but he could outrun any of these salad-shy slimeballs. After a minute of pursuit, Harry glanced back to check if there was any sign of Dudley's gang. Harry breathed a sigh of relief, and headed back to Privet Drive. He'd talk to Mrs Figg later. That had been more than a close call, he thought to himself, as he let himself in through the back door, making to retreat to his cupboard for a couple of hours before lunch.

He walked into the small room and flopped onto his mattress, letting out a huge sigh. Why did it always have to be him? He thought depressedly. All his life strange things had happened to him, things one just couldn't explain, as much as he tried. After all, he thought, I'm 10 years old. How could any of those things be my fault? Like he could explain how the neighbour's cat ended up clinging to the telephone wire! How was he supposed to know how Uncle Vernon's hat had shrunk to the size of a toy dolls several years previously? It just always seemed to be him.

He had never had any luck all his life, what with his parents being what they were, dying in the house fire Vernon had so casually joked about over the kitchen table earlier, he had been told that after that, Harry had been forced onto them against their wishes, and this was then used against him whenever Vernon or Dudley felt like picking on him to argue that he should be grateful to them for "everything" they had done to help him over the years.

He continued in this vein to himself for some time, before realising with a start it had been an hour since he entered his cupboard, and he was still no further to making progress on the money front. They had given him until his birthday to figure something out, and if he didn't he knew all he had to look forward to on his birthday was a flaying at the hands of Uncle Vernon. It wouldn't be the first time, he reflected bitterly.

He decided to take the walk round to Mrs Figg's house now rather than later. The sooner she said no, the sooner he could try to find some other way to do his Uncle's bidding. He walked the short distance to Mrs Figg's house on the adjoining street, and knocked on the door 3 times. After a short while, the door opened, and Mrs Figg stood before him, looking as batty as ever in her dressing gown and carpet slippers.

"Harry? It's nice to see you again, is there something wrong?" she said, looking awkward for some reason. Harry wondered why, every other time he had spent time with her; she had an airy demeanour, and left an impression of not quite being all there. Harry snapped back into the conversation.

"No Mrs Figg, I just wanted to speak to you about something, but if you're busy I can come back later," he offered, thinking she may be eating a meal or otherwise. It was around 5pm so this was not an unreasonable thought. He took a step back as if to leave, while Mrs Figg seemed to think carefully for a second before replying.

"It's okay dear, come in. I'm just entertaining someone at the moment, I hope you don't mind meeting a very dear friend of mine." She said, stepping back to allow Harry entry, she then proceeded to lead him to the front room, where a man of incredible oddness was sat at the coffee table.

The man was exceedingly old, with extremely long white hair and beard, wearing an extravagant suit cut from what appeared to be plum velvet, with a purple button up shirt. He was a very tall man, Harry observed as he rose to shake Harry's hand, but the most strange thing were his eyes, they had widened when Harry walked into the room for a brief moment, but were now looking at Harry over the half-moon spectacles, with an endearing twinkle, that seemed to be looking not just at Harry, but through him, into his very mind and soul.

"Harry, this is my friend P- I mean Mr Dumbledore. Albus, this is Harry Potter, he lives on the other street with his Aunt and Uncle," she finished this introduction with a meaningful glance at Dumbledore, which was completely unnecessary, but Harry missed this, as he was looking intently at Dumbledore. The face seemed familiar to him but he couldn't place it.

As he shook Harry's hand, Dumbledore spoke, "It's good to meet you young man, I hope you are well this fine day?" he finished with a small smile.

For some reason Harry found himself warming to this strange man, he seemed to actually like him and Harry found himself rushing to reply to him. "Yes sir, I'm good, and you?" he answered, trying to be as polite as possible.

"Oh yes, this has been a most interesting day," he replied, letting his sentence hang in the air, looking at Harry with an almost knowing look.

"Well this is nice," Mrs Figg interjected. Seating herself on the side of the table between the two males, she spoke to Harry, "You mentioned you wanted to talk to me about something on the doorstep?"

Harry tore his eyes from Dumbledore and replied, "Yes, I was just wondering. Since I know you best in the town, I thought I'd come to you first. I'm trying to raise some money for school, I was just wondering if there's anything you need doing or helping with that I could do?" The lie rolled off Harry's lips easily, he had plenty of practice, since the time years ago when Social Services had turned up on the Dursley's doorstep, demanding to know why Harry was coming into school with bruises and a dirty uniform. Harry again shivered at the recollection, since then he had covered for the Dursley's abuse time and time again to avoid a beating like last time.

Dumbledore was still looking intently at Harry, observing the young boy. There was no way Harry could know what he was thinking, but the famously calm Albus Dumbledore was having trouble keeping his face calm at the moment in time, watching the conversation between Mrs Figg and Harry, but now he spoke up.

"Well that's fortunate isn't it? You were just telling me about how you've needed that lawn mowing for weeks were you not? Can you do that young man?" Harry nodded enthusiastically. "Excellent. Everyone gets what they want do they not?" he clapped his hands. "Well Arabella, it was nice seeing you again, but I must be off, and it was good to meet you Mr Potter, with motivation like yours, I'm sure you'll go far. I'll see you around."

"You will?" replied Harry, surprised. "Oh Yes," replied Dumbledore with a smile, "you'd be surprised how much I get around," and on that note, he swept out of the room, followed by Mrs Figg and Harry, who said to her, "I really should be getting back as well, turning to face her on the doorstep. "Thank you very much for letting me do this." She waved away his thanks, "It was nothing, I'll see you tomorrow."

Harry turned around, looking for a last glimpse of Dumbledore. He looked up and down the long road, and reflected on what Dumbledore had said. The old man had been right, he certainly did get around, Harry thought with a wry smile, and headed back to the Dursley's with a newfound spring in his step.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The following week passed quickly for Harry, who had indeed gone to see Mrs Figg the following day after their conversation with Dumbledore. She had welcomed him, and presented him with her ancient lawnmower to get the job done with. The inadequacy of his tool however, gave Harry plenty of time to reflect on the previous day's events, and inevitably, his brief meeting with the mysterious Mr Dumbledore.

Harry had never quite met a man like him; first there was the zany-looking exterior, but even more interesting was the person in the skin. Harry had had plenty of time in his life to study people. He wasn't a big talker, he wasn't a big doer of really anything everyone else enjoyed, be it football at school, or hanging with friends, not that there was any to speak of. Dudley put paid to any burgeoning friendships Harry may have had there, and Vernon with regards to anyone daring enough to call for Harry at home.

This meant that Harry had a lot of time to his own thoughts and perceptions; he became good at reading people and their intentions, good or otherwise. This had saved him a lot of trouble in the past, he thought with a sad chuckle to himself. But Dumbledore, he was something different. It was almost like he had a shield in his mind, and was looking straight through his exterior into Harry, this made Harry uncomfortable, but curious all the same. Who was this man who had shown him a kindness, then walked out of the door as fast as he arrived?

As he finished, he set down the lawnmower, took a moment to wipe his forehead of the collected perspiration, and knocked on the front door to let Mrs Figg know that he was done. The door opened after a short while, and Mrs Figg spoke first.

"Harry? I thought I said you could just come in? The door was off the latch." She shook her head at him and stepped back to let him into the house.

"I know, it just didn't seem right just walking in though, the garden's done anyway" Harry replied, gesturing towards the grass.

"So it is, I thought I told you not to do it all in one, and have a break? It's too much work for a young man such as yourself to do in one go," She waved an admonishing finger at him in response.

Harry looked down at the ground and apologised, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it."

Mrs Figg seemed taken aback by Harry's sincerity to her jokey telling off and said, "It's okay, I didn't mean it, and by the looks of it you didn't need that break anyway, look at what a good job you've done!" Harry held himself a little higher after this and she continued.

"Here you go Harry, for a job well done," she said brandishing a £20 note at Harry, which he took gratefully. "While you're here, I thought I'd let you know. I do have several other things I need doing around here, it's been that long since there was someone around the house to sort things out that it's got a little out of hand."

"I'd appreciate that Mrs Figg" Harry said, and she went on to list the things that needed doing. Harry counted 5, more than enough to keep him ticking over the next week, as he thought as he walked the short walk back to Number 4, Privet Drive.

As he entered the house, he was accosted in the kitchen by Uncle Vernon.

"I hope you've been making some progress on the little agreement we had boy?" he said aggressively, as Harry nodded, looking anywhere but Vernon.

"And…?" he went on, leaving a sinister silence to the word after. Harry pulled the note out of his jean pocket, as Uncle Vernon left his seat with greedy eyes, and snatched it from Harry's hands. He then looked Harry up and down slowly, as Harry fidgeted nervously, wondering what was coming next.

"Now I know what you can do, that means I can expect more of the same am I right?" he said, very close to Harry's face, green eyes met small, mean blue eyes, before Harry nodded.

"Yes Uncle Vernon, I will."

This pattern continued throughout the week, of Harry going out every day, spending hours at a time doing work at Mrs Figg's, be it the first task of mowing the back lawn, double the size of the front, to the last of resealing the bathroom tiles. Vernon had ensured Harry knew how to do these things from an early age, and from then on he had done them so he could save the money of getting someone to do it for them as he grew older, fatter and lazier.

After doing the work Harry would walk back to Privet Drive, deposit the money in Uncle Vernon's waiting hands, and wander meekly back to his room to try to regain the spent energy of the afternoon's work. This continued until the eve of Harry's 11th birthday. He knew he had completed all of the work Mrs Figg could give him, which meant no more money to keep Uncle Vernon at bay. This was his last thought before he drifted in a fitful sleep.

_Harry dreamed he was walking up a small path leading to the large manor house, his long black robes billowing around him in the steady wind. As he approached the house, in the window he saw a small black haired boy playing with a toy dragon. With a feeling of hate and the familiar feeling of righteousness as he carried out his will he raised his wand and said softly, "Reducto"._

_The window was obliterated, and Harry pointed his wand through the window, and looking into the panicked infant's eyes, pierced the night with a yell of "Avada Kadavra!" A flash of green light lit the night, blinding Harry, and when the light cleared, he wasn't there._

_Instead he was strolling briskly down a small village lane, past a small village church where several small cottages stood. He kept walking until he reached the very last house on the row, where he stopped and contemplated for a moment on what he was about to do. He then pointed his wand once more at the front door, which exploded backwards off of its hinges at extreme force with a colossal crash. As he approached, a man sprinted out, staring in shock as he saw Harry, who, with an inward smirk, directed his wand at the man and once again the green light emerged, and when the flash disappeared, the man was laid, spread eagled on the ground in the dirt at Harry's feet._

_He progressed into the house, where he heard movement coming from upstairs. To his amusement, a young woman was in one of the bedrooms, and sounded to be shouting out random words._

"_Protego Maxima, Fianto Duri, Repello Inimicum__…" __A female voice was saying as quick__ly__ as was allowed by breath__. Harry smiled to himself again, a valiant effort, but a wasted one as he directed his wand at the door._

"_Everte Statum Pluramaxima!" Harry shouted, gripping the wand with both hands as the doors hinges snapped under the strain of 5 large jets of blue light slamming against it, falling to the floor with a resounding bang._

_The woman inside shrieked in disbelief as her own wand flew from her hand as she pointed it at Harry. Harry spoke to the woman in a cold voice full of malice._

"_Step aside or you will meet the same fate as your husband, you need not die tonight."_

"_NO! Please, let him live, I'll do anything but that-" the words fell dead, as their speaker fell dead, the green flash taking another life that night._

_Harry approached the baby in his cot slowly, as the baby looked at him curiously, not with the fear and reverence he was accustomed to. This infuriated Harry, as he pointed his wand one final time, carefully at the forehead of the baby, one curse from his goal._

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!" Harry screamed, and the flash of green light shone around the whole room, and the scream continued._

"NOOOOOOOO!" Harry awoke with a scream of terror, his forehead burning in pain. As he raised his hand to the old scar on it, he tried his best to calm himself down and rationalise. He hadn't had an outburst like that in years. Then with horror, he realised what he had done, way too late.

BAM

The door crashed open with a huge crash, and Vernon Dursley stood framed in the door, panting like an angry bull.

"What the bleeding hell is wrong with you? You woke the damn house up and the neighbours too I'd bet! Are you trying to ruin us boy? You know what this means don't you?"

Before Harry could speak a word of protest Vernon grabbed him by the upper arm and dragged him through the house, ignoring his Harry's semi naked state, and threw him against the living room wall, and removed his belt from the trousers he was wearing. Seeing the danger he was in, Harry started gibbering apologies

"Please, I didn't mean it Uncle, I was having a bad dream, I couldn't help it, I woke up and I-"

Harry was cut off by a hand from his Uncle. "I don't want to hear your excuses; all that matters is what happened." With that, he gestured slowly with his free hand for Harry to turn around, which with a final pleading glance, he did.

Vernon gripped his belt, and with a final smirk of satisfaction, he spoke, "Happy Birthday boy." He then reared back with the belt.

CRACK

Harry heard the crack and waited for the inevitable pain to roll across his flesh, but after a second of feeling nothing, he turned around to find his Uncle, hand empty, goggling at the sight facing him. Harry spoke with disbelief.

"Mr Dumbledore?"

Dumbledore had appeared from out of nowhere, belt in his hands and a furious gleam in his usually twinkling eyes. After a second of shocked silence, Vernon found his voice.

"Who the hell are you! Get out of my house!" he advanced on the much older man, raising his fists. Dumbledore took one look at him and thrust out a hand, Vernon shot across the room, hitting the opposite wall at high velocity. He then walked slowly towards Vernon, speaking as he did.

"Vernon Dursley, I suggest you hold your tongue. A pathetic little man like you could never understand what you face, or the danger you find yourself in. I find myself tempted to obliterate you from the face of this earth for your crimes, and I will resist this once, but if you cross the line once more that will change. Do you understand me?"

He punctuated the last sentence grabbing Vernon's face with his hand and pulling him close to his. Vernon nodded dazedly, still feeling the effects of his short flight, while Dumbledore turned to Harry, who had to seriously resist the urge to turn and run in his shame. Dumbledore had found his in this situation, alone, wearing nothing but underpants and on the brink of a beating.

"Take me to your room Harry, we're collecting your things and leaving this hellish place. I will not see this pass, and look at me, not the floor. You have nothing on this world to be ashamed of."

Harry held himself a little higher, and led Dumbledore from the room where Vernon still laid on the carpet, and took Dumbledore to his cupboard. Upon seeing it he shook his head.

"They made you sleep here? In this cloakroom?" Upon seeing Harry's nod, he sighed, "Collect your things and meet me out here, I'll be waiting, I need a few further words with your loving Uncle before we leave.

Harry moved into his cupboard and set about packing the few possessions he had. His alarm clock, his books, slowly gained and hidden from the Dursleys, who would surely have deprived him from this comfort of so few, his diaries, which recounted his days of the past 4 years, from finding the diary on his 7th birthday, fallen from one of the large dumpsters that the row of shops in Little Whinging shared to throw their waste and unneeded stock. It remained to this day the best present Harry had ever received. Finding nothing else that he needed to pack, he stood a while to reminisce.

This place had been all he knew, it was his world, it was a crappy, unfair world, but it was his. Now, he was going into the unknown with Mr Dumbledore, and more uncertainty. But he knew he couldn't last here, the look in his Uncle's eye as the cupboard door was thrown open before was nothing he had ever seen. He had seen him angry before, even furious, but the look seemed like it was enjoying the fear it was stirring, revelling in it. This combined with the money demands that he could no longer satisfy, made it clear to Harry that he could call this place home no more.

He stepped out of the cupboard to see Dumbledore leaning against the opposite wall looking strained in the face, like he had been arguing the whole time Harry had been in the cupboard, which Harry realised was quite possible in fact and felt a wave of remorse. He was responsible for that, Dumbledore hadn't had to but he had, and now looked like that.

"Are you ready to leave Harry" said Dumbledore? Harry nodded in response so Dumbledore said "Excellent, let us leave, and never be tainted by the foulness of this place any longer." Leading Harry out of the house, Harry glanced into the living room, to be greeted by the final sight of Vernon giving him the finger from the floor, a final act of defiance as Harry walked out of the door and out on the Dursleys.

"Where are we going sir?" He asked Dumbledore, curious as to the older man's plans.

"First we will be going to Mrs Figg's where we can discuss arrangements for what happens next." Dumbledore replied, seeing Harry's look of worry, he added "Don't worry, we shall not be staying there, it's simply to regroup and consider where to go next. I will not subject you to staying anywhere near them ever again."

He knocked 3 times on Mrs Figg's door, and after a short while, Mrs Figg answered, wearing the same attire as the first time the three of them had spoken and with her hair in curlers.

"Albus? Harry? What's going on here?" she asked with worry in her eyes. "Is something wrong?"

"Not immediately, but could we please come in, we have much to discuss." Dumbledore replied curtly, entering when she stood back, Harry close at his heels.

After Mrs Figg made a cup of tea for the three of them, Dumbledore spoke, "Thank you for your hospitality Arabella, I'll explain the situation. Well today I was passing Number Four, Privet Drive on my way to here, when I saw what can only be described as a distasteful scene. I'm not going to go into details here to spare Harry hearing it again. But I went in and got him out of the house, but not before having words with his Uncle. Then we came here to discuss what happens next."

"God, I don't know what to say. Harry's welcome to stay here, but I doubt that's for the best really," said Mrs Figg with wide eyes.

"Precisely, so the way I see it there's only one possibility. Harry must stay with me this summer, until arrangements are made for after that. If this is what he wants of course?"

Harry sat listening to this, the two people he barely knew as they offered him homes in shock. He then realised that the Dursleys had no idea who he was either, so he was no better off either way in this respect, and he may as well take the safer option.

"Mr Dumbledore, I don't really know what to say, other than this is the biggest kindness I've ever been shown, and I won't forget it. Thank you." He said, looking into the light blue, twinkling eyes of Dumbledore, so unlike the small, squinting, mean blue eyes of his Uncle, and for the first time, he began to trust.

* * *

**And that's all for this Chapter! So, what do you think? Please take the time to review, this is my first fic, so i appreciate any help more experienced writers could give me. **

**For the record I don't know if anyone spotted the hints in the first and second chapters, but Dumbledore did use Legilimancy on Harry during their brief meeting in the first Chapter, whether that's right or not, well, that's for you to decide. **

**Till next time this has been bs1hero. Thanks**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Harry sat opposite Dumbledore, on a train headed towards the Scottish Highlands. Harry had never even seen there, let alone been there, and sat in silence staring out of the window. After the initial flurry of activity and excitement Dumbledore had turned quiet, seemingly not knowing what to say now. Harry didn't blame him, and being quite accustomed to silence, took it gratefully.

As he stared out of the window at the passing masses of greenery, wild and untamed, so far from the strangled lawns and choking atmosphere of Little Whinging, he found himself contented, and allowed himself to drift into a much needed rest.

Dumbledore for his part was feeling more than a little uncomfortable. Secure in his knowledge this was the right thing to do, he still didn't know how to go about doing it. The emotions were foreign to Dumbledore, who spent so much of his life carrying out meticulously arranged plans and strategies. The spur of the moment decision to take Harry from his relatives was more out of character than any he had made in many years.

Waking from his reverie, he noticed Harry had drifted into a snooze; he took the opportunity to take a closer look at the boy. What he saw saddened him, through the thin clothes, it was clear for anyone to see that the boy had not been eaten nearly enough for one of his young age. Harry was painfully thin and short for his age. Dumbledore recalled reading an article in the newspapers about malnutrition, and its links to stunted growth, and considered the boy before him, surely a perfect example of this.

His eyes tore themselves away from this sad fact and flicked up to Harry's forehead, and rested on the lightning bolt scar that had laid there since the boy was a year old, surely his only memento of the life he had shared with his parents. He wondered what lies the Dursleys had fed him as to its origins, and his anger began to rise.

How dare they lie to the boy? They had known everything and yet said nothing, leaving Harry to believe slander and lies, and thinking of his mother and father as anything less than the great individuals they were. Not to mention leaving Dumbledore himself, in the position of breaking the news to Harry of his true nature.

Harry slept on, unknowing to Dumbledore's mental dilemmas, as they train kept on rolling to its destination, when suddenly, Dumbledore felt something, he felt something was horribly wrong.

Harry's eyes shot open as Dumbledore got this feeling, and to his horror, Harry backed into the corner of the booth they were sat in, and started to whimper pathetically, Dumbledore could do nothing but stare for a moment, as little phrases began to become distinguishable from the gibberish.

"No! Not that, please, I'll do anything! Don't hurt me!" punctuated with a yell. Harry seemed to be in such great pain, and being beyond calming down, Dumbledore did the only thing he saw possible, and with a great flash of red light, Harry became still and quiet. Thankfully the carriage they were travelling in was empty but for the two of them, and as Dumbledore scooped up the young boy into his arms with surprising strength for an older man, he saw to his shock, a huge, black cloaked figure standing in the doorway to the carriage.

The thing seemed to be sucking the life from everything it passed, leaving it somewhat greyer than before. Some scraps of salad left on one of the tables by previous passengers seemed to wilt as it passed, and Dumbledore knew he had to get Harry away from the thing. He had hoped this wouldn't be necessary till he got Harry to his house and had chance to explain, but an emergency was an emergency. He reached into the pocket of the suit jacket he had been wearing, whipping out a long thin wooden implement, but rather than using it to defend against the intruder he pointed up into the sky and concentrated.

At this point Harry began to stir in Dumbledore's arms, and was immediately thrust into the uncomfortable sensation of the forced down a long thin rubber tube that was patently too small to fit through. "I must be seeing things..." he thought to himself as he recalled the violent episode he had had on the train, and rather than panic, Harry was somewhat reassured by the experience, as he knew what was happening could not possibly be real.

Nonetheless, the experience was unpleasant to say the least, and when Harry landed on solid ground, he forced his way from Dumbledore's grip, falling to his knees while vomiting copiously on the floor, before he finally collapsed to the side of the small pool he had made. Finally… blessed peace.

With a small sigh, Dumbledore muttered "Scourgefy", and the pool of vomit vanished. Feeling every one of his 110 years now, rather than take Harry into his arms again, with a flourish of the wrist, he said "Locomotor Harry", holding his hand out like he was carrying a baton. Harry's body rose from the ground, stopping about a foot in the air before moving out of the door of the room, with Dumbledore right behind him.

Albus Dumbledore lived in a small, modest, but lavishly decorated two bedroomed house, tucked out of the way in rural Scotland, overlooking the depths of Loch Ness, which Dumbledore would sometimes stare over when he needed to think. The tranquil view relaxed him, which is what he needed right now. Dumbledore was stood on the second floor balcony of his home, pondering his next move. Harry had not had a good reaction to the travel, and on depositing him in the bed of his spare room, he had given him a dreamless sleep potion, primarily to allow the child some much needed rest, but also to be able to give himself some time to get into his own mind, and figure out the best way to proceed.

Dumbledore reflected on the crazy day it had been, springing Harry from the Dursleys, and then bringing him here! It had been many a year since Dumbledore had had company in his house; the last time hadn't lasted too long. Dumbledore had worked in the background as well as the foreground of society from many years, but not everyone took to secrecy so well, hence the number of years Dumbledore's spare room had been vacant since then.

But now Dumbledore had a young boy in the house, with needs and wants well beyond his experience, having never had any children of his own. There was nothing for it though, he said to himself. Both him and Harry were going to have to learn how to change, and taking a thick, parchment envelope out of his jacket, he pondered how Harry would take the change, watching a giant kelpie burst through the calm surface of the water on the horizon, and a host of tourists leap to their feet and grab their cameras. Regarding their astonishment with the magical serpent, he smiled amusedly. Seemed they would soon be oblivious to it all.

The following morning, Dumbledore was sat at his desk, sifting through today's mail, when there was a knock at his door. Jumping in surprise for a second, Dumbledore remembered he wasn't alone, and gave permission to enter.

"Come in my boy, take a seat. It seems we have much to discuss does it not?" Dumbledore welcomed, gesturing towards the leather seat opposite him, which Harry sank into.

"Sir, I just wanted to thank you for what you did yesterday, I don't really know how to say how much I appreciate it, but I want you to know all the same, that what you did yesterday, was the best birthday present anyone could have ever given me." Harry said this all very quickly, as if wanting to get all he needed to say out as fast as possible to prevent being spoken over.

Rather touched, Dumbledore replied "Harry, you have nothing to thank me for, I did what any man should do, and we will speak all about it at a later time. Right now, without meaning to demean your words, we have what I think you will agree, are more pressing matters to discuss."

"What do we need to talk about?"

"Well first for formal introductions, I am Albus Dumbledore, but it may be best if you refer to me as you have been doing, for reasons I shall explain presently. I need to speak to you about something rather important, and I feel you may not like what I have to say for several reasons, and because of this I need your promise to listen to what I have to say, and I will be happy to bear the brunt of your venom afterwards. Do you agree?"

Harry studied the older man, trying to figure out what he was talking about. He didn't like the sound of it, and staring into the light blue eyes of the much older man, where he saw lies, deceit and cruelty in the eyes of Uncle Vernon, Dudley and all his friends, in Dumbledore's eyes he saw… nothing. Nothing at all to clue Harry up towards what was going on here. So finally, after a long pause, Harry slowly nodded, his eyes never leaving Dumbledore's.

"Thank you Harry, you will soon understand the significance of that. I suppose you could say, while I wouldn't lie to you, I have been somewhat… economical with the truth about myself, and indeed yourself since we met."

"You talk like me and you have something in common Mr Dumbledore," Harry said with raised eyebrows.

"Very astute Harry. Yourself and I share a certain characteristic that it seems you have already begun to show proficiency at, knowingly or otherwise. Harry tell me, has anything ever happened to you that's strange, something that you can't explain? That doesn't make sense no matter how hard you think about it?"

Harry's mind flashed on exploding sprinklers and unexplained hair colour changes as he answered "I guess so. What of it, and how do you know that happened?"

"It happened to all of us Harry, every one of us, and for those who didn't know… well it's just all the more confusing."

"What exactly are you saying sir? That I'm not like them? Special?"

"Harry, you are not just special, you could never know how important you are."

"Why? What am I Dumbledore?" Harry's voice was becoming strained, none of what Dumbledore was saying made any sense, but yet it had factual evidence, and this talk of o certain characteristic made Harry think he was missing just one piece to tie it all together. The accidents, the outbursts, the incident on the train yesterday, and he looked at Dumbledore as the other man provided the punchline.

"Harry, you're a wizard." Dumbledore said softly.

Harry goggled at the words. "A what?" he replied disbelievingly.

"A wizard. As in you have the ability to perform magic. Just like all those things that happened at Privet Drive, things you couldn't explain, now you can."

"I don't believe you, there's no such thing as magic, not at all. They were all just coincidence."

Dumbledore sighed. "Then let me prove it." Opening the drawer of his desk, he picked up a long wooden stick, which he showed to Harry. "This is my wand Harry, and I can do just about anything with it, like so." He waved the wand over to the corner of the room, and the large parchment envelope came zooming towards Harry, landing with a small thud on the desk in front of him.

Harry stared in disbelief, then pointing to the wand, said "You mean that I'll get one of them?"

"You will soon, but first you should read your letter. I think it will explain more than I could much more concisely.

Harry ripped open the envelope, and pulling out a thick piece of parchment, began to read.

_**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**_

_**Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore**__  
Order of Merlin: First Class, Grand Sorc, Chf Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, Int. Confed of Wizards_

_Dear Mr Potter,_

_It is my pleasure to inform you that you have been accepted for a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, you will find enclosed a list of required items for the forthcoming year. (books, uniform etc.)_

_Term commences on the 1__st__ of September, we await your reply by owl post__ of confirmation of your place._

_Yours sincerely,_

_**Minerva McGonagall,  
Deputy Headmistress**_

Harry reread the second line of the letter out loud. "Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore". This is you? You're the headmaster?"

"I am indeed Harry. A most honourable position that I have been to hold for many years. Now you understand, joining the wizarding world is slightly more complex for you than other 11 year olds enrolling this year."

"Why?"

"Harry, what do you know of your parents?"

Harry winced at the personal topic, "I know enough." He said shortly.

"I apologise Harry, but it is imperative to know. What is it that you know?"

"That they were losers. Wastes of space. Dead in a house fire that Dad started by accident. The Dursleys made sure I knew it…" he finished bitterly.

Dumbledore's usually twinkling eyes went cold with anger for a moment, then returned to their prior state. "What would you say if I told you they were heroes Harry? What would you say if I told you they saved your life that fateful night?"

Before Harry could answer he went on. "It happened on Halloween of 1981. Your mother and father were good people, but good people tend to make enemies. There was a wizard that was more evil than anyone had ever been, so evil that to this day people refuse to say his name. I'm not one of those people. Fear of a name Harry, only increases fear of the thing itself, and the wizard, Voldemort fed on those things."

"So on that night, Voldemort decided to attack your house; you were only a year old. Your father stood between you and Voldemort, as did your mother, but to no avail. But when Voldemort tried to kill you, something happened that no one understands. You must understand Harry, that when a wizard casts a killing curse, there is no shield, no magical protection. But you survived Harry, you survived what no man had, the curse deflected on Voldemort and he has yet to be seen since."

"In the wizarding world, you are doubly famous. You rid the world of Voldemort, and became the only man to survive the killing curse in known history, in the same night. No, not famous, a legend."

Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. This couldn't be true could it? But otherwise why would Dumbledore be saying it? How would he know about his parents? How would he have summoned the letter? On this thought, to save himself the difficulty of replying to that last statement, he looked at the other piece of parchment in the envelope, bringing it out, laying it on the desk and beginning to read.

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

_First year students will require:_

_UNIFORM_

_Three sets of plain black robes_

_One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)_

_One cloak for winter wear (Black, with students choice of coloured trim)_

_BOOKS_

_The Standard Book of Spells Grade 1 by Miranda Goshawk_

_A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot_

_Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling_

_A Beginners Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch_

_1000 Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phylidia Spore_

_Magical Draughts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger_

_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander_

_The Dark Forces: A guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble_

_OTHER EQUIPMENT_

_One wand_

_One set of brass measuring scales _

_One Cauldron (Pewter, Size 2)_

_One set glass or crystal phials_

_One telescope_

_Note students may bring only an owl, a cat or a toad to school with them if they wish._

_First year students are prohibited from bringing personal broomsticks to school._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Lucinda Thomsonicle-Pocus  
Chief Attendant of Magical Provisions_

"Are you okay Harry?" Dumbledore asked gently, the significance of Harry's silence not lost on him. "I know it's not easy to deal with at first, but you'll get used to the idea".

Harry nodded, still staying silent. This was too much, he was being asked to believe that he, Vernon and Dudley's whipping boy for so many years, was actually some sort of super powered wizard that could do things no one had ever done before, was beyond him. Rather than deal with the more pressing issue, he cast around for a simpler topic.

"But Professor, it says I need all these things on the list, I don't have any money though, how will I get them?"

Dumbledore almost laughed out loud. A Potter worried about money? "Harry my boy, believe me when I say that money is the least of your worries in the entire world, and today, we'll get all those things for you."

Harry looked again at the list. He somehow thought that in might be a little hard to get dragon hide gloves in the Scottish Highlands. "How will we get them though?"

"Oh that's easy, as long as you know where to go." Dumbledore finished with a cryptic smile.

* * *

**And there's Chapter 3, thank you to all the people who took time to follow and review this story. I've been working very hard on this chapter, because i don't want this story to be really dialogue and thought heavy, and trying to find that balance caused a few problems. Anyway, i hope you like it, and I'll see you all next time. :)**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Harry lay in the bed in the spare room that night, trying to get his head around the amazing things he had been told today. A wizard? Surely this was too good to be true, the things he could do with magic… well as Dumbledore had said, levitation was just a start.

He would be safe here, he knew that. No Harry Hunting, no beatdowns from Uncle Vernon, no scathing putdowns from his Aunt Petunia, not having to walk into school every day of his damn life fearful for what would happen. Not having to worry about the next weird thing to happen around him, or knowing that it wouldn't get better, friends weren't miraculously going to crawl out of the woodwork, Dudley would make sure of that.

He recalled with a wince his last day of school before moving up to high, Dudley had had a field day, making the most of the final chance to humiliate Harry in front of the entire student population, Harry had never spent more time running away in his life, and somehow finding himself on top of the school roof didn't improve his day. As much as he tried to explain to the headmaster that he had been trying to run from Dudley, and that he couldn't explain how he had appeared to leap 8 feet from the ground, he still left school that day covered in bruises and clasping a letter for the Dursleys from the school for climbing school buildings. Harry was nursing more injuries due to that than when he got back to the Dursleys after school by the time he was back in his cupboard.

But that was over now. He was going to a new school for people like him, who thought he was a hero! Harry smiled thinking about this, people who would actually like him, think he was worth a damn. A hero! He said the word over and over in his head, basking in it, feeling the warm glow of self-worth.

But then he thought about his parents, and a feeling of sadness came over him, they had died, in the worst way, so he could live. So what had he done to repay their sacrifice? Acted like Dudley's human football? Surely they would be ashamed if they could have seen their son for the past 11 years. Ashamed… Would anyone even like him at Hogwarts anyway? He didn't know how to talk like everyone would want him to, he didn't have any special power, and everyone would expect him to be perfect. What would people think, when they realised their "Boy who lived", was a loser who got kicked around by his non-magical family all his life?

Harry rolled over in his bed, trying to banish those thoughts with one final one. "Well I'm just going to have to make myself what they want."

Harry woke that morning to the ear-shattering sound of a rooster crowing. Looking around for where it came from, he noticed Professor Dumbledore stood in the doorway with his wand raised.

"Apologies if I scared you my boy, I have found an awakening spell to be a most effective way of waking young witches and wizards in the past."

Harry took one look at Dumbledore and just said "A shake would have done you know?" looking around for some clothes to wear around his room from the bed.

"My apologies again Harry, and I took the liberty of picking you out some clothes to wear, we shall be leaving soon. You'll fit in a bit more wearing these where we're going."

Dumbledore was brandishing a set of black robes in his hand that Harry looked at incredulously.

"What are those? I've never seen anyone but people in movies wear those sorts of clothes," said Harry.

"I assure you my boy, in our world, you would be looked at most strangely wearing muggle attire, and I doubt more attention is what you want at this transitioning phase?"

Harry took the point and the robes with a nod, trusting Dumbledore's judgement on this. He hoped Dumbledore was right, he didn't think he could take anymore mocking right now than he already was doing to himself.

"Thank you Sir," said Harry, as Dumbledore backed out of the room with worried eyes after looking eye to eye with Harry for a second.

"We will be leaving in about 15 minutes for London. Come downstairs when you are dressed please." Came Dumbledore's voice from the door.

Without an answer, Harry slid out of the bed and looked himself up and down in the mirror, hating what he saw. Thin, pale and short, he cut an unimpressive figure. As he slipped the robes over his head, he thought with a little optimism, that at least the long, baggy robes didn't make these things too obvious. "Time to go wow the masses…" He thought, feeling thoroughly downtrodden as he traipsed out of the door down the stairs.

As he got downstairs he saw Dumbledore by a roaring fire in the hearth, feeling the heat from the other side of the room, he wiped a trail of perspiration from his forehead and walked further into the room.

"Ah Harry my boy, are you ready to leave?" said Dumbledore.

"Yes, but how exactly are we getting to London? What was the point in travelling all this way to go back, it'll take forever." Harry said, not liking the sound of another train journey after the last one.

"Admirable common sense Harry, but you will come to learn that in the magical world, we have several much quicker means of travel than the muggles, no matter their ingenuity."

Brandishing a pot filled with silvery, glittery liquid, Dumbledore said "Harry, this is called Floo Powder, we use it for transportation by fire. If a fireplace is connected to the Floo Network, you can get there using any other fireplace as long as you have Floo Powder."

Harry looked at the powder apprehensively. Travel by fire? This didn't sound right to him. "How do I do it Sir?" he said nervously.

"Take a pinch of the powder and throw it into the flames, then you step into the fire and-"

"What?" Harry interjected, "You want me to walk into fire?! I'll get burned!"

"No you won't Harry, the powder makes the fire harmless to you, look." Dumbledore threw some powder into the flames and held a piece of firewood over them. The wood didn't ignite or even smoulder. Harry stared at it like it had grown a hand and slapped him round the face. Levitation yes, but making fire harmless? Just what else could magic do?

"I'm sorry professor"

"That's quite alright my boy, now when you step into the fire, you need to say where you want to go loudly and clearly. Try not to breathe in when you are in the fireplace. Hot ash is not pleasant to inhale, and don't panic when you're moving. You may well come out of the wrong fireplace if you do. Understand?"

"I think so Sir," Harry said, trying to digest all the information at once, as he approached the flames, wincing as they licked around him as he entered the fire, expecting pain.

"Good Harry, now we are going to 'The Leaky Cauldron', you need to say that, then keep your head down until I get there. Understood?

Harry nodded and squared his shoulders. "The Leaky Cauldron!" he said, hoping this worked.

Suddenly Harry was hurtling down a long passage, flames surrounding him. He saw fireplaces zooming past him, but the speed of travel was just too great to focus beyond the fireplace. He felt his head swimming, and he was sure he was going to vomit again, but just as he felt the need, he shot out of a fireplace, and the world righted itself.

Trying to ignore his swimming head, he stood to one side, keeping his head down from the glances of curiosity from the inhabitants. He glanced up quickly, and to his surprise found himself in a small shabby pub. An old wizened man stood behind the bar, serving foaming mugs of liquid to customers, while others sat at tables chatting amongst themselves. Two men were playing what looked like muggle darts, but rather than throwing the arrows, they were conjuring them from the ends of their wands. Harry watched curiously, not noticing Dumbledore stood by his side.

"A most enjoyable way to pass the time Wizard Darts, but we must be leaving," said Dumbledore, making Harry jump once again. Tearing his attention away from the darts, he followed Dumbledore to the bar, where the old bartender greeted Dumbledore with a toothless smile.

"Alright Albus? What'll it be?" he said, flashing a look at Harry. "And is your companion 'ere who I think e' is?"

"Nothing for me today Tom, but I'm on Hogwarts business at the moment, and I believe it is, but please keep it down at the moment from your good patrons, we would prefer to not court any unwanted attention, you understand?"

"Right you are Sir, I suppose you two'll be passing through to the alley then?" Tom said with a shrug, throwing a sneaky look at Harry's forehead.

"Indeed we will be, and with that I bid you good day" Dumbledore turned and walked through a small door to the right of the bar, with Harry close on his heels.

They emerged in a small courtyard to the rear of the pub, facing a large brick wall, when Dumbledore pulled Harry to one side.

"Harry, we will now be entering the wizarding world, I may have mentioned this before, but you look extraordinarily like your father. So much so that no wizard in our world would miss you, so unless we want to be shopping running from a rather large crowd I have a suggestion to make."

"What is it Professor?" Harry asked apprehensively, subconsciously flattening the hair on his forehead.

"I want to cast some charms over your appearance, to make you look different." Dumbledore said bluntly. "They won't hurt, but they may feel a little strange until you get used to them."

Harry didn't like this, but he knew Dumbledore spoke truth. He'd seen the look on Tom's face when he realised that he had Harry Potter in his pub, and knew he'd have to deal with so much more unless he let Dumbledore cast these spells, and gave a small nod.

"Excellent," said Dumbledore, bringing his wand from his robes. Waving his wand in front of Harry several times in complex movements, finishing with a flourish of the wrist, he conjured a small mirror that he showed to Harry, who gasped in shock at the person in the mirror.

He now had long, shoulder length brown hair, his glasses were missing and he appeared to have blue eyes, he looked to have grown about a foot and appeared to have put on weight, so he wasn't skin and bones anymore. In his amazement, he heard Dumbledore speak.

"These will last for a couple of hours, more than enough time for us to be in and out of the alley and get what we need for you."

Dumbledore turned, and tapped a brick in the wall in front of them. All of a sudden, the bricks in the wall seemed to unfold out in ways that seemed impossible to Harry, until finally there was a large brick archway in the place where the wall used to be, which Dumbledore and Harry walked through.

Harry was still staring back at the arch, when Dumbledore spoke.

"Welcome Harry, to Diagon Alley."

Harry's eyes went wide, facing him was a wide street buzzing with activity, everywhere he looked, he saw amazing things. On his left he saw a shop window with miniature broomsticks flying around, and a saleswizard outside the shop selling the full sized article to anyone who would listen.

"-the new Nimbus 2000 features the most advanced aerodynamic designs known anywhere, bolstering the extreme speed and maneuverability of this divine broom, 10 times better than anything we have ever-"

"We should be going Harry, there'll be time for that later," Dumbledore said, breaking Harry's attention on the broom with an amused smile on his face. "There's somewhere else we need to go first." Dumbledore gestured grandly down the alley to the building facing them.

At the foot of the alley there was a huge building towering over everything else, its bright white colour outshining everything around it. Harry couldn't stop staring as they made their way down the alley and entered through the grand front door.

What was inside was even more amazing, they entered a long room, lined with high tables, that had people sat at them working, no, not people as Harry realised upon closer inspection.

"Professor, what are they?"

"Harry, they are goblins, a highly proud and easy to offend race, who do not take kindly to that sort of talk. I will speak more of it once we leave. Make no mistake and mark my words, you do not want to make an enemy of the goblins." Dumbledore said sharply.

Harry gulped and hung his head, following in Dumbledore's footsteps as they reached one of the high tables and Dumbledore spoke to the goblin.

"Hello good Sir, we would like to access Harry Potter's vault, this is Harry Potter, currently disguised under glamour charms to hide his identity, you understand the reason?"

"Oh Yes Mr Dumbledore," the goblin said in a low voice, "I understand the need to hide your precious Potter. He will need to undergo the mandatory checks for first time users of course." To which Dumbledore replied with a curt nod and turned to Harry.

"Harry they will need to take a drop of blood for identification purposes, I would prefer it if this wasn't necessary too, but this is their house, you understand?"

Harry squirmed under the intensive gaze of the goblin, the goblin's cold eyes showed no pity of warmth.

"Please hold out your wand hand Mr Potter." he said, brandishing a small dagger, which Harry's eyes went wide at, as he looked at Dumbledore, who looked back with sympathy, but his eyes told Harry that he had no choice, and he extended his right hand slowly.

The goblin made a small incision on the palm, and held Harry's hand firmly over a small metal dish, allowing a drop of blood to drop into it. When it did he released Harry, who nursed his cut hand with his other, and watched as the goblin turned to Dumbledore.

"You have his key of course?" to which Dumbledore reached into his robes and brought out a small golden key, which he handed to the goblin. The goblin dipped the key into the small pool of blood in the dish and touched it to a piece of parchment that was on his desk.

When the goblin moved the key from the parchment, the small mark it made was not red, but glowed a bright green colour.

"Thank you Mr Potter, I will have a goblin accompany you to your vault." With that, the goblin handed the key back to Dumbledore and rang a small bell on his desk. Within a couple of seconds another goblin appeared at their sides and beckoned for them to follow him.

They walked across the gleaming hall, through a small side door, where the demeanor suddenly changed, gone were the high, gleaming walls and ceilings and wooden upholstery, replaced by rough brickwork, and metal girders, and running through the middle was an old looking railway track, with a minecart sitting on it. The goblin entered the cart, and beckoned for Dumbledore and Harry to follow him, which they quickly did.

Harry now realised they were in a rocky cavern, and as they set off at breakneck speed, realised this cavern must go far underground.

They continued at breakneck speed through the cavern, spinning all around, Harry almost forgot the stinging pain in his hand from the knife from the thrill and adrenaline of the ride. Then finally, with a whiplash-inducing jolt, they stopped at a large circular vault door.

The three of them exited the cart, and approached the door, when the goblin turned to them.

"Your key please sir?"

Dumbledore handed him the key, which he took and entered into a small hole on the door, and with a large clicking sound unfitting for the keys size, the heavy metal door swung open slowly.

"Your vault awaits Harry," said Dumbledore with a small smile, as Harry entered the large room with his mouth agape in shock for what seemed like the thousandth time today.

The vault was absolutely packed, filled with mounds of large gold coins, stacks of silver coins as tall as Dumbledore, enough bronze coins for Harry to dive into. Harry turned to the goblin.

"Exactly how much is here?" he asked, amazed at this fortune of his. If the Dursleys could see him now...

"At the last count Mr Potter this particular vault contained 1798 galleons, 2036 sickles and 901 knuts. This is expected to be more than enough to cover your education, until you can come into your inheritance of the Potter Vaults".

"There's another vault?"

"Oh yes Mr Potter, your inheritance of the Potter family vault will come into effect on your coming of age, when you shall receive full access to all the rights afforded to you by your lineage."

Dumbledore interjected at this point. "I'll explain all this to you back at the house Harry, for now we should concentrate on your school shopping." Dumbledore looked rather angry at the goblin for some reason to Harry, but as soon as that flash of anger appeared it was gone, and Harry nodded, privately wanting to know a lot more about the 'rights afforded to him by his lineage'.

But for now Harry scooped up a large number of all 3 coins, and turned to leave the vault, following the goblin and Dumbledore. He took a last look at the vault and resolved that he was going to have a good look as to exactly what his 'rights' were.

As they left the bank, Dumbledore took Harry's hand without a word, much like he had been since they left the vault, and traced his wand over the wound left by the goblin. Before Harry's eyes, the skin restitched itself, and within a couple of seconds, the wound was no more.

"Thank you Sir", Harry said, to which Dumbledore nodded in response with a small smile.

"It's perfectly alright my boy, now lets get this shopping done. I'm not feeling myself at the moment, those carts always seem to turn my stomach no matter how much I use them."

With this Harry and Professor Dumbledore set off down the street, ticking off the various provisions on Harry's list.

First stop was the apothecary, a small, packed shop full of evil smelling articles to peruse. Harry picked up a beginners potion set packed by the man behind the counter, and was glad to pay his 12 sickles and leave.

Next stop was Madam Malkin's Robe Shop, which Harry spent 30 uncomfortable minutes being measured from head to toe while Dumbledore watched amusedly. Then a further 20 minutes having robes pinned to him to be fitted. By the time this was done Harry had resolved to just use growth charms on his robes from now on so as to never be subjected to this again, but finally it was over and the cool breeze that had picked up over the hour felt refreshing to his face as he set off down the high street with Dumbledore.

Professor Dumbledore and Harry spent several more hours picking out the items on Harry's school list, with Harry picking out several other items for himself. Harry had never had money in his life, and was determined to have some fun with it now he did. He bought a large beautiful snowy owl from Eeylops Owl Emporium, and a big cage and some owl treats to pacify her until they got back to Hogwarts, where Dumbledore assured him she would be well taken care of in the owlery.

Finally there was one final thing to tick off the list, the thing Harry had been looking forward to since his first sight of magic: his own magic wand.

Dumbledore led the way to a small shop near the end of Diagon Alley tucked away. A small sign over the door read "Ollivander's: Finest Wand Makers since 382 BC". A small window display showed a single wand on a faded purple cushion. They entered to an empty, silent shop when a voice came out of the shadows.

"Ah, Harry Potter... I have been expecting you."

Unnerved that this Ollivander knew who he was beneath his disguise, Harry stared at the man. He was immensely old, a tiny man, wrinkled, with sparse white hair on his head. But his eyes seemed to drill into Harry, seeing his very heart and soul. He then turned to Dumbledore.

"Ah! It's good to see you again Albus, you're probably the only person who comes into this shop who I didn't sell their wand to you know? Although I notice," he said sharply, his eyes travelling to Dumbledore's wand at his hip, "that you are not using your original, am I right?"

To a regular person unskilled in powers of observation, they would have missed the split-second look of uncertainty and nervousness on Dumbledore's face, but Harry didn't. Then in the next blink his face was impassive again.

"You're quite right Garrick, my original wand was destroyed many years ago, I was very lucky to come across such a fitting replacement. One can only hope Harry gets the same."

Ollivander's pale eyes moved slowly from Dumbledore to Harry, where they rested for a short while, before he clapped his hands loudly.

"Right you are, I'm sure we'll find something for you. It's just a matter of finding it. Try this one, this one and this one. Just give them a wave and we'll see."

Harry waved the three wands in turn, but felt nothing special. Disappointed, he set them on the desk.

"No matter Mr Potter, we have plenty more to try..."

Ollivander was not lying. A short while later, Harry thought he had tried every wand in the shop, until Ollivander came to him with one long black case.

"Hmm, why not? Try this one Mr Potter, and we shall see."

Harry took the wand from its case, and wrapped his fingers around it, and all of a sudden, it just... seemed right. The wand felt balanced and steady in his hand, like an extension of his own hand, and with a flourish, he sent gold sparks streaming around the room.

Looking at Ollivander, he expected congratulations, but was greeted by a worried look. Ollivander turned to Dumbledore.

"Professor, may we have a word in my study?"

"Of course Mr Ollivander, Harry, stay here. I won't be long."

With that, Dumbledore turned, and followed Ollivander into the darkness of the corridor leading from the shop.

Harry was annoyed. He'd spent ages lifting those damn wands, feeling nothing, and when everything felt right, they acted like he'd done something wrong! Looking down at the wand in his hand, it felt like the only thing on his side right now. Harry was so preoccupied, he almost didn't notice the shop door opening, and 3 people walking inside.

"Do you work here?" Harry looked round to see 3 people, a man, a woman, and a girl who looked to be the same age as him standing in the doorway. The man had spoken, and Harry answered in surprise.

"Er, no Sir. I'm just a customer, the owners in his office. I can't imagine he'd be long."

The man looked uncomfortable with this, like he wasn't sure what he was doing.

"Oh, okay. I guess we'll wait over here then."

The family sat in a couple of chairs in the corner of the room, quietly but obviously excitedly conversing amongst themselves while Harry stood awkwardly in the other corner of the room.

After about 5 minutes of this the man spoke again to Harry from the other side of the room.

"Why don't you come sit over with us? I don't like to see you stood over there by yourself. Come pull up a chair."

Harry approached nervously and sat in the chair offered by the man. He remembered Aunt Petunia always telling Dudley never to talk to strangers. He was never offered the same advice but he took it all the same. But the man seemed good natured, and looked to be a family man, laughing and joking.

"Are you starting Hogwarts this year as well?" the man asked Harry kindly, to which Harry nodded.

"Our daughter is as well? Aren't you dear?" He said, addressing the question at the girl, who Harry took to be his daughter. "We're ever so excited about it. There's never been magic in our family, she's the first. What's your name?"

Harry wasn't sure whether to tell the truth or not. Dumbledore had hid him for a reason, but these people seemed to be muggles. Harry didn't know if muggles could have magical children, but here was the proof. So he decided to tell them. Muggles wouldn't know who he was.

"Harry Potter Sir, It's a pleasure to meet you." Harry said, feeling foolish at the formal introduction, but it seemed like the thing to do. The woman spoke for the first time.

"Manners too! It seems you are a rarity for your age, well, I'm Jean Granger, and this is my husband Dan, and this is our daughter Hermione, who seems to be unusually quiet..." she added, giving her daughter an amused glance.

"Yes, she usually is a lot more talkative than this. I must say, it was a shock to come into this world, it's amazing to find out that once you think you know everything, something like this can come out of the blue and show you you can never know everything right?" said Dan.

"You aren't kidding," replied Harry with a small smile. "I-"

"Ah, Harry. We are ready to finish with your wand now." Dumbledore's voice came from behind Harry. "Oh, who are your new friends Harry?"

"Erm, this is Mr and Mrs Granger Professor, and their daughter Hermione", he said gesturing towards the girl last, who looked amazed at the sight of Dumbledore.

"Charmed, I am Albus Dumbledore, you might recognize my name from the letter you received from Hogwarts. I'm sure it will be my pleasure to oversee your daughter's education, but right now I am on a tight schedule, and must be off with Harry."

Harry paid Mr Ollivander 8 galleons for his wand, and turned to leave with Dumbledore.

"It was nice meeting you Harry." said a girls voice, when Harry turned, he saw Hermione had found her voice at last. He felt like he had a frog in his throat suddenly, and smiled awkwardly and nodded at her, backing out of the door with as much speed as could be considered decent, Dumbledore following him.

They set off back to the arch leading back to the Leaky Cauldron without a word, until Dumbledore spoke as they reached it.

"She seemed nice Harry."

Even the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was not fool enough to continue down that line under the foreboding glance Harry threw the old man, and settled at a small chuckle, as they headed back into the muggle world.

* * *

**Wow..This was a big chapter by the standard i set in the others, tell me what you think by review. I didn't really want to split the same scene into two chapters if i didn't have to, so here you are. A couple of plotlines broached here, first appearance of Hermione, Ollivander and Dumbledore keeping secrets, Harry's inheritance mysteries, what will happen next, well there's only one way to find out, keep on reading and reviewing, and i'll see you next time. :)**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Harry sat staring pensively over the water of Loch Ness, reflecting on what had been an eventful month at Dumbledore's home. The man had shown him an exceptional kindness by taking him in from the Dursleys, and Harry was determined to repay it.

He figured that seeing as Dumbledore was the headmaster of the school he would be going to, he'd want him to be the best wizard he could be, and from getting back from Diagon Alley, Harry had spent his time buried in The Standard Book of Spells Grade 1 by Miranda Goshawk, studying everything he could.

He had read the book and knew the incantations, but nothing seemed to be happening for him, no spell would work for him. So about a week after the visit to Diagon Alley he visited Dumbledore in his study, hoping the headmaster would help him.

"Sir?" Harry waited by the door hesitantly, waiting for the man's reply.

"Yes Harry? Is something the matter?"

Harry moved into the room, "Well I've been looking through my books and trying some things but nothing seems to happen. Is there something wrong with my wand?" Harry held up the implement for examination.

"Harry, Mr Ollivander has never ever sold a bad wand to any student. What is it you're trying to do?" Dumbledore raised an amused eyebrow.

"Well, I'm trying to light up my wand, and I hold it and I say the word and I do the movement but nothing seems to be happening, not even a little bit," Harry rushed. Dumbledore gestured for Harry to show him, and removed the half moon glasses from his nose.

Harry held his wand in front of him, suddenly nervous for the display of magic he knew he couldn't do in front of a man he was growing to respect so much. He twirled the wand like in the textbook, and said "Lumos," as clearly as he could. But again, the wand stayed dark, and Harry hung his head, hurt by his failure.

"I can see what the problem is. A most normal problem among wizards your age. You need to learn to channel your magic." Dumbledore said with a smile. "Think of yourself as a source of magic, like it runs in your veins, but you need a conduit, a way to channel and conduct it. Simply saying the words isn't doing that. You need to feel the spell, know the effects, and feel your power. It's difficult to explain, but practice will help you, and that's exactly what you'll get at Hogwarts."

Harry nodded his head, trying to understand what Dumbledore was telling him.

"So it's a mental thing as well as a practical thing?" Harry said, trying to resist the feeling he was being dismissed on Dumbledore's final words.

"All of magic is mental Harry, the most powerful magic we don't need our wands for, one day you'll understand that. You should try to feel your magic before you try any spell, when you are one with it, you'll be able to lend your wand to most spells. Don't worry, you're young, and just starting to learn what you can do, so go and try what I told you. Don't think about the words, think about the effect." Dumbledore finished with a fond smile, like he was looking on his favorite Grandchild, as Harry backed from the room.

"Thank you Sir," he said as he closed the door.

Dumbledore arranged the papers on his desk and thought about the events of what had happened. The boy was eager to learn. He would be easy to mold into a great leader, already he seemed to feel responsible for himself, like he knew he needed to be good.

Dumbledore's mind cast back to those other "little projects" he had had in the past. Everything was moving at just the right pace, and soon, he would have all the pieces he needed on his side of the chessboard. Harry was a good kid, and Dumbledore rubbed his face with his hand as he felt the beginnings of responsibility over the young man.

He was the one who had taken him from the Dursleys, he had seen something was wrong from the first time he saw Harry, gently easing into Harry's thoughts as they and Arabella Figg were talking, he saw things that shocked him, and he knew Harry couldn't stay there much longer. Legilimancy was a crude tool, but necessary to plan his moves for the future. He had hoped that he could stay until leaving for Hogwarts, but on passing the house to meet Arabella, seeing the scene framed in the window, he knew he had to intervene.

Taking Harry from the Dursleys was a risky move, but had to be done, what he hadn't counted on, were the shenanigans on the train. What the bloody hell had Dementors been doing on a muggle train to Scotland? There was no way this was an accident, but he had left rather than expel the Dementor, because as he rationalised, the Ministry had to have noticed Harry was missing, the last thing he needed was to have them asking awkward questions about why he was travelling by muggle transport when he could quite easily apparate anywhere he chose. No-one could know Harry was here yet, until he was safe in Hogwarts, and a damned Patronus Charm being cast on a muggle train would certainly grab the Ministry's attention. Use of apparition wasn't ideal, but they'd be much less likely to keep an eye on who was apparating where than who was casting Patroni.

The ministry had found out about Harry's disappearance and were for all intents and purposes, crapping in their pants about a media shitstorm. The Boy who Lived? Missing? Minister Fudge had ordered all his department heads to keep this quiet, and was threatening jobs and livelihoods if this came out and damn the consequences. It was times like this Dumbledore wished he'd taken the minister job when Millicent Bagnold retired, bless her, the two years she was in power during the war were enough stress for her. But he knew the minister job was bad news, so that idiot Fudge got the job and had been trying to build a power base ever since.

Dumbledore would come clean with the truth of Harry's summer location when the time was right, he knew his reputation could ride out anything Fudge threw at him. More worrying was the fact Harry had asked questions about his inheritance. The boy would get what was his but it was no good for him to know all, then expect all. He was a pure soul, and Dumbledore intended to keep him that way. All the while he had been trying to distance himself from Harry as much as possible, he knew eyes would be watching at Hogwarts, and it wouldn't do for him to make public he was spending time with Harry any more than any other student, but then again, Harry was a special case, and they had things to do. Dumbledore sighed wearily. Harry may be struggling with a lighting charm, but there was so much more to do.

A week went by from this, and Harry was proudly demonstrating his ongoing prowess with the lighting charm over dinner. He was becoming more proficient in his magical skill, that was clear to Dumbledore, but he was becoming so reclusive... The boy rarely spoke apart from meal times, and instead spent his time reading and practicing. It was like Dumbledore had set a fire under him and he was burning through everything he could.

"Harry don't you think you're doing a little much?" Dumbledore said between mouthfuls of pie. "I mean you barely come out of your room. There is a world to explore you know. The Loch is nice this time of year, do you like the water?" The words felt awkward coming out of Dumbledore's mouth, he was used to teaching, but not dealing with kid's problems on a more emotional level, he didn't want Harry getting wrapped up on his own world and forgetting the real world, or is that what the boy was trying to do?

"I just want to do good at school sir, isn't that what you want?" Harry said, quietly confused. Dumbledore was a teacher, and he was telling him to stop learning? Why was he always doing wrong?

"And I'm sure you will my boy, but i don't want you to forget about people too. You'll need friends at Hogwarts, and I want you to be in a position where you can make them."

Harry nodded politely, then after 5 minutes of idle chat, excused himself to his room. Where he allowed wide eyed panic to finally consume him.

Friends? What friends? He'd never had them and didn't know how to make them, and Dumbledore thought he'd make them like that. The thought of introducing himself to people made him shiver. Everyone'd do exactly the same as the barkeeper at the Leaky Cauldron, just look at his head. That's all he was, just a scar and a story, and that's all anyone would look for.

The only person who remotely seemed legitimately like they liked him was that Hermione girl from Ollivander's shop, and she was much too good for him. He'd have to keep his distance or she'd think he was weird, just like the rest of the pretty girls from school.

No, whatever Dumbledore said he was better doing what he was doing and getting better, the better he was maybe people would see him instead of a year old baby.

So it continued. Harry continued to lock himself away in his room, much to the worry of Dumbledore, who knew that Harry would be leaving for Hogwarts in 2 days time, and they had barely shared a single word since the conversation over dinner. Dumbledore didn't want to be hard on the boy, but this was getting ridiculous, but he just didn't know how to stop it.

Meanwhile Harry had been working hard on the spells in his book, the way he saw it if he could do all of those things that had been written, people would be impressed by him in some way. He hadn't had to worry about Professor Dumbledore, he'd been out "at the ministry", whatever that meant, a lot over the past 2 weeks.

Looking at the list of spells in the contents page, he had most of them covered. He could light up his wand, lock and unlock doors and produce a small lick of flame from the end of his wand, the Incendio Spell had been giving him trouble for some days now, and he had noticed he was growing tired earlier, sleeping more and feeling weaker. Not a good combination for trying to become proficient at first year magic.

He remembered Dumbledore telling him how beautiful the Loch was at this time of year, and figured a short break and some fresh air couldn't hurt him, it might wake him a little so he'd feel better, so slipping on an old pair of sneakers he walked out of his room and down the stairs, slipping out of the back door.

Breathing in deep lungfuls of fresh air, he strolled along the edge of the water, enjoying the tranquility of it all, no-one to worry about. Finally, he could relax, sitting on a small bench by the waterside, and staring out over the water, letting himself reflect.

As he thought about the events of the past month at Dumbledore's, he couldn't help but think about the events at Diagon Alley, so much had happened he didn't understand, and needed to know.

"Better late than never Harry."

Harry spun round, and saw Dumbledore stood behind him, the man had a talent for just appearing seemingly out of nowhere...

"Hello Professor, I just thought I'd get some fresh air, the house was a bit much." Harry said with a shrug. Then he thought he may be able to get some answers here.

"I was just thinking about some things Sir." Harry said tentatively, trying to draw Dumbledore in. He could see through people better than most, and he knew Dumbledore was hooked.

"About what my boy?" Dumbledore said, with curiosity.

"Well when we went to Gringotts, they wanted my blood and the key, how did you get that?" Harry asked.

"Harry, I was good friends with your parents, I was friendly with them after they left school and worked with your mother a little, she was a very gifted witch with charms you know? And your father was an extraordinarily powerful wizard, destined to be an auror..." Dumbledore seemed to be talking more to himself now, trailing off, before coming back to the conversation "As such I felt It my moral duty to make sure everything was in place for when you rejoined our world, it's yours now. Here you go." Dumbledore pulled the small key from a pocket and handed it to Harry, who stowed it away safely.

"Thank you sir, but there was a couple of other things."

"What's the problem my boy?"

"Well the goblin spoke about the "rights afforded to me by my lineage". I was just wondering what he meant. It seems like I'll get something when I come of age, and was there a problem with my wand? Mr Ollivander took you away to talk, I was just a little worried, that's all."

Dumbledore stayed silent for a short while, seeming to think how to answer, before saying, "Harry, I hadn't wanted to overload you with expectations, but the Potter Family is exceptionally wealthy. The goblin meant that when you come of age the Family Vault he mentioned will become free to you rather than the trust vault you'll be using for your school years. Nothing to worry about. In answer to your other question, Mr Ollivander and I are old friends, and as such the man has become an elephant in his old age. He never forgets a bet, and like he said, it had been a while, and in all his charm, decided to remove some of my gold from me. Nothing for you to worry about though. He said with the twinkle returning to his eyes. "Now run along, you need to start getting yourself packed for Hogwarts. I won't be able to see you onto the train, I am the headmaster after all, can't be seen to be playing favorites. With that in mind a friend of mine will be seeing you arrive safely. Now chop chop, you've got a trunk to pack!"

Harry set off back up the garden path, his mind much more at ease than before his stroll, reaching his room, he opened his trunk, and began to pack.

Harry woke on the morning of September 1st, anticipating and dreading at the same time. A fresh start for him! But the spectre of his past hanging over his head. He dressed in his best muggle clothes as per Dumbledore's request the night before, and lugged his trunk down the stairs to the front room, where Dumbledore was stood, staring into the fireplace. As Harry approached, he smiled broadly and opened his arms wide.

"Harry! Well, this is it, are you looking forward to it?" he beamed.

"I guess so," Harry said nervously, flattening his fringe.

"You'll be fine, I'm just expecting my friend any time to take you to the station. It's been nice having someone around the house after so long, I hope you enjoyed it too. But that's enough sentiment, here he is." Dumbledore finished the last part walking forwards to help the newcomer from the carpet where the fire had expelled him.

The man straightened up to his full height, taller than Harry and Dumbledore. Harry's first impression was that of a cliff, a land mass, tall and proud, but weathered and eroded. The man was dressed in a shabby shirt and jeans, the clothes seemed well worn and old but looked after, with holes darned neatly. He had short cropped light brown hair, and a neatly trimmed mustache. But it was the face that drew Harry, with bright green eyes not unlike his own, and old scars reaching around his face like claw marks. His eyes told a story of pain. Without a word, Harry liked the man, and was happy he was the one taking him to where he was going.

"Harry Potter, meet Remus Lupin." Dumbledore introduced.

Lupin stepped forward, hand outstretched which Harry took.

"It's nice to meet you Harry," he said, and after a short pause, the handshake broke and Lupin turned to Dumbledore. "I've got about half an hour till the express leaves, so we'll have to cut this short. I'll speak to you at some point in Hogwarts."

Dumbledore nodded and held out the pot of Floo Powder. Harry took a handful and listened as Lupin addressed him.

"Now Harry, we're going to be going to King's Cross Station in London to catch the train, but there isn't exactly a fireplace. There's a little place set aside by the ministry for students flooing in, it's not exactly busy but that's a good thing for us. We're going to the Lincoln Lounge. It's a pub near King's Cross that wizards frequent. A little like the Leaky Cauldron, the owners are muggles but they have a magical son so it's fine."

Harry nodded, and wanting to impress the newcomer, stepped forward first again, throwing his fistful of powder into the flames and stepping in. He said "Lincoln Lounge!" as clear as he could, and zoomed off down the network again. Now it wasn't a surprise this wasn't so bad, he thought. All of a sudden he sat down hard on the stone fireplace, bouncing back to his feet, to a scene just like the Leaky Cauldron, minus the Wizard Darts. Lupin bounced to Earth not long after, and without a word to anyone, they set off out of the door and down the street.

"This won't take long Harry, just a five minute walk." to which Harry nodded before speaking.

"How many places are there like that? The pub i mean. I thought magic was underground so to speak," Harry said curiously.

"More than you'd think. What, you thought wizards only liked a social drink at the Cauldron? Nah, there's plenty more where that came from, not that you'll be seeing them for a good few years lad, don't wanna be following your father's example too clos-". Remus suddenly stopped talking, but he had let enough slip.

"You knew my father too?! How? What was he like?" Harry pelted him with questions about the man he wanted to know the most.

"Well Harry, we were, well we were good friends at Hogwarts, there were a couple of us that went around. He was a good man. He saw what no-one else saw..." Lupin trailed off in his own thoughts.

As they reached the station, Harry was still asking questions, with Lupin becoming evasive, and finally pointing out their destination.

"Here we are Harry, Platform 9 and 3/4. Famous place."

Harry was so thrown off guard by this that he forgot his interrogation and said:

"Platform 9 and 3/4? There is no 9 and 3/4. What else, Platform 7 and a half?" he replied incredulously.

"Not unless you want to end up in an obscure European magical village no." Lupin said, with such deadpan that Harry swore he was telling the truth. "We need to pass through that barrier to get to the platform. You go first. Take it at a run if you're nervous, and just go right through the barrier, look, that one is now."

Harry watched as a big burly kid ran straight towards the barrier, Harry was sure he'd put a hole in it, but as he hit it, he just disappeared through it. Harry thought his eyes were playing tricks on him, but this was magic. Anything was possible.

"I'm ready, he said to Lupin, taking the trolley his trunk was sat on, and wheeling it towards the barrier, still not exactly confident. But he was going too fast now, there was no stopping, he would sink or swim, and he just kept going, and going, and going, and he passed right through the barrier onto a platform filled with steam. A bright red steam train was right in front of him.

He had no idea how this could happen without the muggles noticing, but here it was. The platform was filled with children of all sorts of ages, from nervous looking 11 year olds, to lanky 17 year olds, all swarming onto the train in droves.

"You best hurry Harry, or you'll not get a seat". Lupin had appeared next to him smiling. "It was nice to meet you Harry. I'm sure we'll see each other again, but goodbye for now." Shaking Harry's hand one last time, he disappeared through the steam, and through the solid wall from whence he came.

Harry was in no mood to stay still too long, already he saw people glancing at him, and heard the curious mutters.

"That kid over there, he looks kinda like-"

"Is that him? They said he'd be here,"

Feeling anxious, he dragged his trunk onto the train and to his relief, found an empty compartment pretty much immediately. Entering it, he plonked himself down on a chair, and tried to ignore the glances of people passing, and whispering to their friends. Feeling like an animal in a zoo, he made to shut the blinds on the compartment window, shutting them away, when the door opened, and a girl walked inside.

Already dressed in her robes, he barely recognised her, then, with a face-slappingly obvious moment, he realised it was the girl from Diagon Alley, Hermione.

"Is it okay if I take this compartment too? There's some idiots outside I'd rather not get involved with if I can help it."

Harry nodded dumbly, feeling the nerves take over. He didn't know what to say, what should he say?

"Wait a second, I remember you. You're Harry Potter right, i remember you from Ollivander's. It's nice to be able to talk without the parents around, from what they said they were very impressed with you."

Harry gave a small smile, more than content to let Hermione talk to him rather than vice versa.

"I've been studying all summer, my parents are non-magical like they said, I'm the first in my family so I want to make a good example. Have you been doing any work? From what I remember the headmaster was with you, so I assume so."

Harry gave the first true smile since she had entered the compartment, and they were off.

Hermione had a lot to say, but at least she was saying them about topics Harry could talk about, he knew his stuff relatively speaking but Hermione was still light years ahead of him, he didn't mind, it wasn't a new thing, and at least she actually seemed like she liked him, not once mentioning the scar, or Voldemort.

About an hour into their journey, they were talking about Hogwarts houses, which Harry had had no knowledge of prior to this.

"Well there's 4 houses, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin. We'll all be put into one of those 4 when we get there. I heard one of the other first years mentioning some sort of test. I wonder what we'll have to- ARGH!"

The scream echoed through the compartment, a rat had leapt through one of the ventilation ducts on the train, and landed right on Hermione's head, before skittering off. Harry dived on the rat and trapped it in his hands, right as the compartment door opened.

"Erm, did you find my rat by any chance?" A tall redheaded boy asked the room, before noticing the rat in the hands of a prone Harry, retrieving him and slipping the rat into his pocket.

"Thanks mate! Oh, er, sorry if he scared you, he gets away every now and then" he said, noticing Hermione clutching her head in shock.

Harry interjected, "Are you okay Hermione?" He approached her, and she took one look at him and said "Dont... Like... Rats..."

The redhead came closer and said, "Ah don't worry about it, he's harmless, spends all his time eating, sleeping and leaving little presents in my robes. I'm Ron Weasley" he held out his hand to Harry.

Harry took it, making a mental note to never go anywhere near Ron's pockets. Hermione looked to be calming down, and Ron offered his hand to her. She took it, but keeping her eyes on the mass in Ron's pocket all the while.

"D'you mind if I stay a while, I think my brothers have gone off to someone else's compartments at the moment." to which Harry gave a noncommittal shrug that Ron took to mean "No, I don't mind."

"So, who are you two then?" Ron said, trying to make conversation, but finding it hard seeing as his rat had nearly scalped someone 5 minutes previous.

"This is Hermione Granger, and I'm Harry Potter."

"Hold on, you're Harry Potter? But you're a legend! A hero! You got rid of You-Know-Who!"

"Who?" said Harry.

"You-Know-Who"

"No I don't know who,"

"You don't know who You-Know-Who is?" Ron said sceptically.

"How do I know know who You-Know-Who is? You won't tell me who the Know-You-Who is called-" Harry, stopped, frustrated at getting tongue-tied.

"The one who you defeated when you were a baby" said Ron.

"Oh, Voldemort? Why didn't you say so?"

Ron went white and nearly fell out of his chair. "You said his name! No-one says his name!"

"Well I'm not going to fear a name because someone tells me to." Harry said, finding his frustration wearing off, and his desire to talk too. They fell silent for a short while, before Ron excused himself to go to the bathroom. Harry could only assume he'd been shocked out of coming back because he didn't return.

Harry and Hermione spent the remaining time on the train chatting idly about various aspects of the school and what they were expecting. Harry found this very informative, Hermione had done her research on the school by the sounds of things. Good thing she'd decided to come into his compartment or he would have been in for one hell of a shock.

They arrived in Hogsmeade Station some time later, being told to leave their luggae because it would be put up in their rooms for when they arrived. Harry didn't see how seeing as they didn't know their houses yet, but he was beginning to learn to trust magic to be able to come up with answers, so he didn't question it. On the platform in Hogsmeade, he and Hermione heard a gruff voice shouting.

"Firs' Years, o'er ere'. C'mon, lets 'ave all firs' years wi' me! We've got us a little trip t' take."

The man was monumentally huge, was Harry's first impression, more than double the size of Harry and Hermione, probably taller than them both together. The man had a mane of long, thick coarse black hair, and a huge shaggy beard to match. This would have been intimidating, but he had kind, crinkled eyes that showed he smiled a lot, and Harry and Hermione went over to stand with him.

"You two firs' years are yer?" said the giant man. Harry and Hermione nodded quickly, to which the man's face burst into a wide grin.

Offering his massive hand to them, which Harry and Hermione shook at the same time, he said "Rubeus Hagrid. Gamekeeper 'ere a' Hogwarts." He then addressed the small crowd of first years. "We're goin' across the lake on our way to the castle, okay?"

No 11 year old was going to argue with this man, so they trudged along follwing Hagrid's massive strides, until they came across a small fleet of boats on one side of the lake. On the other side, was the most magnificent castle Harry had ever seen, with its array of towers and battlements. Harry had seen castles in pictures before, and they looked big, but this one, this one was grand.

He climbed into the boat next to Hermione, and Hagrid pushed them all out one by one. Harry had been worried about rowing the boat, but it seemed to know what it was doing for the most part, as the first years cut a path for the castle. He looked around. Hermione seemed to be doing as well as him, looking ahead though was a pale boy with a pointed face and blonde hair, who seemed to be enjoying being ahead of everyone else, with a very physical display of showing off, dancing around his boat like an idiot. Then he fell out into the water and began to scream.

"I can't swim! I can't swim!" he bobbed up and down in the water, thrashing wildly. Harry started to go over to help him, but he hadn't accounted for the mass of humanity that cut through the water, leaving him in it's wake.

Hagrid had dived into the water, and showing skills that would surely give any athlete a run for their money, had powered his way to the stranded boy, who he lifted out of the water, threw unceremoniously back into his boat, which he pushed with such force it seemed for a short while the boy was in a speedboat, until he washed up on the shore, closely followed by everyone else and Hagrid, shaking the water from his hair like a huge shaggy dog.

He lead the group to the front of the castle. With the pale blonde boy muttering the whole way.

"Damn school... liability... when my father hears...". He continued chuntering on to himself and anyone who would listen until they reached the massive front doors of the school. Harry took a deep breath.

Hagrid raised a huge fist and banged on the door 3 times. With a loud creak the big doors opened, and in filed the first years.

Showtime.

* * *

**Whew, here's another Chapter, trying to stick to an average of an update a week but I've had alot of birthdays and various other things to go to, and blind drunk is not ideal for writing complex stories :P**

**As a reviewer mentioned, my Hermione hasn't been totally canon in the chapter before this. Look guys, to me, and in my experience, an overly intelligent person like Hermione would have been bullied in younger years for her intelligence, so as much as i respect JKR for bringing this world i can mold and make my own, i feel the initial character impact of Hermione was way too overconfident and bossy, so i changed her to make her a bit more nervy and not so sure of herself. Just my opinion, you're welcome to yours, and be sure to leave them in reviews. It all helps me make this a better story so every so please take the time out if you feel like there's something to say.**

**Until the next time, thanks for reading. :)**


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